


thirteen years (and i’ve only ever loved you)

by crumblyoaf



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance, bc i am a confused australian, crumblyoaf branded teenage commitment issues and feeling insecure, not slowburn not by a long shot, set in the english school system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 06:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16738564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crumblyoaf/pseuds/crumblyoaf
Summary: Fourteen year-old Mark Lee has no idea what the boy with golden pools for eyes and dripping black hair will mean to him until thirteen years later.





	thirteen years (and i’ve only ever loved you)

**Author's Note:**

> ages; jaehyun is only a year older than mark and the rest of their ages are kind of blurry i didn’t think too hard about it lol - but briefly, norenminhyuck are still born in 2000, jungwoo is still born in 98, hyung line is... vague but pretend they’re still in high school at the same time 
> 
> \+ their hair colours probably aren’t canon, don’t read too much into it :D
> 
> enjoy!!

2014

 

The shrill sound of the whistle slices the air and Mark almost pees himself right then and there.

 

They’ve got Doyoung for toss up and although the senior has a mild case of butterfingers, the glint in the elder’s gaze reassures Mark and by the time he takes a tiny exhale, they’ve got the ball.

 

Doyoung passes to Ten, who catches it with way more flair than necessary and they make their way down the court, jerseys streaking in shades of blue and white. Mark is too busy marking the agile junior from the other team that he misses Jungwoo getting the shot but the erupting cheers from the crowd are more than enough.

 

It’s all fun and exhilarating for Mark until he meets eyes with the most revered player on the opposition.

 

Jung Jaehyun in all of his five-feet-something glory, while Mark feels barely three feet in his vicinity. The older male shines in the blue and orange jersey despite the rest of his team wearing the exact same thing and Mark slaps himself back into the game when the ball whizzes past him. He’s almost thankful for his life until Doyoung yells something indecipherable but definitely angry in his general direction and Mark follows the ball’s path and finds its destination in a pair of familiar hands.

 

_Oh shit._

The advantage they had is short lived from there and the two point margin between the two teams makes the loss even worse. When they stand to shake hands, Mark happens to stand in front of the star himself, cursing in English when he realises the growing sweat on his palms.

 

 

“Aren’t you too young to be saying that word?” Mark’s fixation on his hands is interrupted by a deep voice that runs smooth as honey and he can’t bear to look up or wonder how Jaehyun understands English.

 

 

He does, eventually when they have to shake hands but the cheeky smile on the elder’s face makes his knees quake and his arms go slack under the brunet’s gaze.

 

 

“Good game, hope to see you soon buddy,”

 

 

Those words ring in Mark Lee’s ears for the next term, the term after and the term _after_ until again, the team makes the semis.

 

2015

 

Donghyuck and Jaemin’s squeals from the crowd echo embarrassingly loud in the stadium, but Mark soaks it in, him and Jeno waving back and throwing some cheesy gang signs at their best friends, who go even wilder at the gestures.

 

 

“Dude, I’m not even ready,”

 

 

“But you’ve been here before, not me!”

 

 

“But Jeno _, he’s_ here!”

 

 

“Oh! How could I forget about the _one_ , the _only_ , the kidnapper of frail Mark Lee’s heart, Jung-,”

 

 

“Shut-“

 

 

The whistle permeates through the stadium like a wave and Mark’s eyebrows fly up in typical seagull fashion as he watches Yuta, the new Japanese student with the blinding smile strut into the center.

 

He’s up against Sicheng, or as the opposing team likes to call him, ‘Winwin’, and Mark sees a flicker of interest and mischief twinkle in Yuta’s eyes as the referee throws the ball into the air and the game officially starts, with the opposition on attack.

 

It’s okay because Sicheng might have the good looks but his hesitation gives Kun, their secret weapon, an advantage and some foreign Chinese words are exchanged between them. Mark swears something ignites in both of their eyes.

 

Kun scores with an assist from Ten but they have no time to celebrate as the opposition make great haste down the court, a player named Taeil with possession of the ball and he passes it to Johnny, a _giant_ student (whose height Mark can’t even begin to fathom). He fakes a pass and looks like he going up to shoot before he bounce-passes it with ridiculous speed and it lands in the hands of none other than Jung Jaehyun.

 

Mark suddenly has something lodged in his airways as the senior leaps with grace and shoots the ball into the basket, eliciting cheers from their school’s crowd and whoops from the blue and orange team.

 

He gets a nudge in the ribs from Jeno and he again snaps out of it, securing his gaze on the ball rather than the handsome face diagonal from him. Doyoung dribbles a few times, scanning for his teammates so Mark slots himself in a nice spot free from any defenders, and the ball lands right in his grasp.

 

Zeroing into the basket, Mark Lee does what he knows best and goes for it. By Jove, it slips straight through into the ring and the ends of his mouth stretch to his ears as Doyoung slaps him on the back and his team’s yells echo in his ears.

 

 

_“Nice shot buddy,”_

 

 

Mark thinks it’s a phantom, some manipulated whisper lost in the wind, but when he feels a set of golden irises on him, passing out seems like a good idea. He’s six feet now, and Mark’s just hit five foot five at most but the size difference between them is still as shocking as the year before.

 

 

“I-uh, thanks?”

 

 

“Jesus Mark, _the ball!_ ” Doyoung’s screech catches Mark off guard and he doesn’t catch the smirk on Jaehyun’s face as he dashes towards Taeyong, who’s currently being swarmed by a sea of blue, orange, and white.

 

 

They win the match and when Mark gets to Jaehyun, he trembles a little less, adrenaline thrumming in his veins instead of sheer anxiety and he shakes the elder’s hand with confidence.

 

 

“Good game buddy,”

 

 

“You too, Jaehyun,”

 

 

The wink the six-foot male sends him toppling over his own feet.

 

2016

 

“I can’t believe my beat-up Nike free runs get to touch the floor of this stadium,”

 

 

“My Adidas fluxes feel the same way,”

 

 

“My New Balances are feeling quite anxious stepping into new territory-”

 

 

“For the love of God, can we stop talking about sentient sneakers-”

 

 

The team throw their battered duffel bags and scratched water bottles onto the side in a large heap as they take in the glistening stadium, the ground polished enough that its glint bounces off the walls and Mark seriously can’t believe his own eyes.

 

They’ve finally made it to state and each of the rounds hadn’t been easy wins, making the taste of victory even sweeter. They’re versing a school from around the area for their first game so they’re jumping in with only a few 144p Twitter videos of the opposition’s gameplay to base their own on, but all that Mark really cares about is the experience - and maybe the team with those familiar blue and orange jerseys across the court.

 

 

“So, you’ve seen golden boy,” Jungwoo sidles up next to him and Mark jumps back in shock, the head of orange tickling the sides of his face.

 

 

“God, his proportions are to die for huh,” the elder comments, a hint of envy in his voice as they both observe Jaehyun talking to his teammates, his dimpled smile illuminating his general vicinity and Mark’s heart accelerates before he actually takes in his friend’s words.

 

 

“You’re like, the same height hyung, what are you on about,” Mark swerves around to take a sip of water, peeling off his sweatshirt and Jungwoo only exhales deeply.

 

 

“ _I know_ , I’m talking ratio of head to torso to legs Mark Lee! Honestly, he’s a real catch, I can understand why you’ve been pining after him for eternity.”

 

 

“Not eternity! Just, two years or something like that,” Mark corrects quietly, stretching his hamstrings and the auburn-haired male snorts as he helps Mark stretch his legs.

 

 

“Yeah alright Markie, but you better be focusing on the ball today, not the golden flecks in his eyes,”

 

 

“It was _one time!_ ”

 

 

“Alright kids, get over here!” Their captain, Taeyong yells and Mark only pouts at Jungwoo’s uncalled-for comment before they huddle and talk their game plan, ending it with Taeyong’s reassuring and motivating words. But it feels all too real when he catches sight of aforementioned golden flecks and Jaehyun only gives Mark a small smile before Ten pushes him onto the court to take position, and the image floats at the back of his mind for the entire game.

 

 

Mark doesn’t get almost-pummelled by a ball this time, shooting an impressive three pointer during the start of the game and the whole team works on accumulating the score and defending their slight advantage, as the opposition display remarkable strategy and skill, especially the towering male who gets cheered on with several names and has limbs the length of several lined-up baguettes, if Mark _really_ had to describe the stature of the player.

 

(He introduces himself as Yukhei, although he says ‘Lucas’ or ‘Xuxi’ are alright too, but Mark sticks to Yukhei when he types the contact into his phone by request of the giant student, who literally _whoopee’d_ when Mark mentioned he was born in ‘99.

 

 

“You too?! Man we’re like, _chingus_ right?!” Mark giggles at the contrast between Lucas’ appearance and his voice, accented Korean mixed with a little English reminding Mark of his younger self.)

 

They win in the last fifteen seconds as Yuta makes a magnificent bank shot, truly showcasing his spontaneity and they cause an uproar in the stadium as they throw the Japanese player onto their shoulders and parade him across the court.

 

Performance over, they shake hands and make promises to see each other at the next state matches or even further. Yukhei almost crushes Mark in a mix of a handshake and a hug, to which he only laughs at before making another promise to text him later as they take a break and watch the next game unfold.

 

He benchwarms for the next game as Jeno fills in for him, and it’s all fun and games, pun unintended, until Jung Jaehyun waltzes over during the second half and sits next to Mark.

 

 

“C-Can I help you?” Mark curses his stuttering voice as he makes tentative eye contact with the intruder ~~of his heart.~~

 

 

“Just wanted to watch your team play - do you mind if I sit here?” Jaehyun replies in that _sweet_ voice that Mark hasn’t forgotten, could never forget despite the long periods he goes without seeing the elder and refrains himself from screaming.

 

 

“You’re supposed to ask that before you sit down, but sure I guess,” he replies quietly, taking a gulp of water as he watches Ten speed down the court to help out a distressed Jeno.

 

 

Jaehyun only laughs, and it’s ridiculous how even that sounds like a melody to Mark’s ears when his own laughter can only be compared to an intoxicated parrot - and that’s how Donghyuck puts it _nicely_.

 

Mark remembers vividly when his infatuation with the talented basketball player began, and it’s so embarrassing that he would rather post all of his tween bathroom selcas than ever let Jaehyun know.

 

 

_It’s the summer of 2013, Mark is fourteen and officially loves eighth grade. He sometimes, keyword sometimes, exerts his right to utilise dominance over the scrawny Year 7s, although his height and lanky frame is nothing to brag about as Donghyuck and Jaemin like to constantly remind him. He loves all of the clubs and co-curriculars he’s involved in, whether it be orchestra on Monday mornings, Book Club at Tuesday lunches, astronomy at Wednesday lunches, hockey after school on Thursdays, or badminton before school on Fridays. It gets a little tiring sometimes but it keeps him busy and he has all the time in the world, right?_

_He’s wrong. Very wrong._

_Waking up late is the first sign - he has to finish up a book review the night before to show the club at lunch so he sleeps way later than he’s supposed to, misses his alarm, misses his bus, and gets told off by his least favourite teacher for being late (it was two minutes! two minutes!). It spirals into recess, when Donghyuck and Jaemin get too much for him and he lashes out, storming off to the bathroom, where he sits and mourns over the snacks he left at the table. Lunch comes around, and Book Club is cancelled because the captains have an excursion - so the review he writes about The Wind and the Willows, which he hated reading in the first place, is ignored, scrunched and torn in his backpack. He can’t bring himself to apologise to his friends out of pride and shame, so lunch is spent by himself in the bathroom, again. School ends and the moment Mark steps out of the building, it starts to pour like no other, and he remembers the vice-captain of Book Club calling this kind of situation, ‘pathetic fallacy’ - boy, does he sure feels pathetic right now._

_He could catch the bus but the last two people he wants to see right now catch the same one as him, so he decides on walking home, school jumper sitting limp on his shoulders as he gets soaked through to the bone. And just when it couldn’t get any worse, he trips on a ball that rolls from the courts beside him and the large scrape across his knee grow red - it’s now that Mark lets himself cry, because nobody could tell what was rain and what were tears, right?_

_“I’m so sorry about the ball! Are you alright, buddy?” a young boy runs up to him, strands of black hair sticking to his forehead as he slows down and crouches down to Mark’s level, peering over him to see if he’s alright._

_“I-I’m fine! Just leave me alone, please.” He’s never sounded so un-fine in his life but he just wants to be alone._

_“Can- can I at least get you a bandaid? Umbrella? I can help you over to the shade so you don’t get more wet.” Basketball boy seems adamant on not leaving him alone and Mark is helpless right now, with his left leg out of commission and maybe his entire fourteen years of existence in shambles. It’s not a hyperbole._

_But the boy doesn’t even let him answer before he lifts Mark up from the concrete and walks him over to the shelter by the courts, where a backpack and a carton of chocolate milk sits on the bench._

_“Are you cold? Do you need a hoodie?” The raven-haired boy digs around his backpack, unfazed by how much water is dripping off his body and Mark only shivers in response, teeth chattering louder than he expected._

_“Here, I have a bandage and uh, antiseptic? And my jumper! It’s a little big but yours seriously isn’t doing you any good- also do you need an umbrella? I have that too, it’s bent but it still works-”_

_“Don’t you need these though? And why are you helping me?” Mark is perturbed as to why this boy is willing to give him so much even though they’ve only just met and he’s even more confused when the boy only grins._

_“It was my fault I didn’t catch the ball in time and that’s why you fell, it’s only fair that I help you out right?” the boy rummages around in his bag again, whipping out a pack of Dettol wipes and starts to inspect Mark’s knee._

_“It’s gonna hurt, are you alright with that?” He starts to wipe hesitantly around the edges, and Mark watches the other boy work at his knee like a professional nurse. It stings but Mark bites his lip and braves through the pain as Basketball boy dabs something onto his knee and sticks the bandage on with precision._

_“I get scraped and all bloody when I play basketball so I’m kind of an expert at this, you could say,” Basketball boy scratches the nape sheepishly as he stands up, and Mark notices the considerable inches he has on him as the stranger packs everything away and squints at the puddles on the ground._

_“It’s still sprinkling a little but it’ll stop soon- here take this,” Mark gets a grey hoodie placed on his lap and a blue umbrella slid into his palm._

_“Take this too, I might be wrong about the rain but it’s better to be safe than sorry!” The taller boy stands up and smiles, deep dimples indenting the bottom of his cheeks and Mark feels his face flush._

_“I- thank you, how will I give this all back to you?” Mark peels off his jumper reluctantly and slips on the grey jumper, shoulder seams hitting his arms and sleeves going past an inch of his actual fingers. The older boy just waves him off._

_“It’s alright! Keep them, or return them to me the next time you see me, it’s no big deal buddy.” Basketball boy’s habit of calling Mark ‘buddy’ makes his tummy flip inside out._

_“Oh, I’ve got to go! See you later buddy!” The raven-haired boy grins again, deep dimples sinking at the edges of his face as he throws his backpack onto one shoulder and grabs his chocolate milk before waving at Mark. He dashes off, leaving Mark with a blue, slightly dented umbrella, an extra large sweatshirt, and a small smile._

_Mark makes his way back onto the footpath, blue umbrella in hand as the clouds magically begin to clear up and he realises that he has no idea what Basketball boy’s real name is. It isn’t until a muddy, orange ball rolls up to his feet, black writing across it reading ‘Jaehyun Jung.’_

_He picks up the ball with the intention of returning it along with the other belongings the stranger had gratuitously given to him and walks back home, a little slower than usual but not without pink cheeks, tiny grin dancing on the edge of his lips, and his tummy churning this time in an odd way. Maybe today wasn’t as bad as he thought it was._

_He goes to the tryouts for basketball at the beginning of Year 9, a certain dimpled smile stuck at the back of his mind as he skips Book Club for the first time in his high school career and is told by the end of lunch that he has an untapped skill for the sport and the coach would love him on the team. He gains a whole new crew of friends who coddle him to no end; Doyoung who always gives him noogies that don’t really hurt but he pretends they do for the elder’s sake; Taeyong, the beloved captain who’s always bickering with Doyoung about something or other but never forgets to ask Mark if he’s faring okay, if he needs a water break and remembers that his favourite ice-cream brand is Melona; Ten who speaks to him in English more often than Korean and always winks when he gets a basket in; Kun who always asks if Mark’s eaten yet and calls him ‘ke ai’ when they have practice together, which he doesn’t quite know the meaning of but takes in stride anyway, and Jungwoo, who’s only a year older than him but towers over Mark, tall appearance unlike the soft voice he possesses or the hilarious one-liners he has hidden up his sleeve that always has the whole team cracking up. Basketball is an addition to his life that Mark never quite anticipated would have such a huge impact, as he drops Book Club, hockey, and badminton, all in favour of practicing for a few extra hours every week to be his very best the next time they’re on court._

_The kind stranger with his wet jet-black hair, soft smile, and overwhelming generosity never leaves Mark’s train of thought every time he hits the gymnasium for an extra session with Jungwoo or the rest of the team, and it isn’t until the semi-finals that Mark learns of the player’s respected skill throughout their region. Jung Jaehyun, who’s a year older than Mark, has forgone the jet-black hair for a light shade of brown and still wears the same dimpled smile that makes Mark’s stomach churn in the same odd way it did when he was fourteen._

 

It’s to this day, that Mark has a neatly folded grey hoodie sitting at the back of his closet along with an untouched blue umbrella and an orange basketball, ready to be returned to its owner. But it’s a bit of an issue when the owner doesn’t even remember who Mark is.

 

 

_“You don’t know that!” Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck chorus together and Mark winces at the volume._

_“Well judging by how he didn’t recognise me at our match in Year 9, I doubt he even remembers the day it even happened, or his missing things,” Mark stabs at his Caesar salad solemnly and Jaemin pinches him, inducing a shocked yelp from the unsuspecting teen._

_“Stop being such a Negative Nancy! You could have the love story of your dreams if you just asked him at your next game if he remembered that one rainy day during the summer of 2013, where he lent his oversized jumper and broken umbrella to a boy in Year 8 who was having a bad day, leaving without a trace save for his treasured basketball, which you picked up, only to realise in the following year, that he was a venerable player of a local school’s basketball team-”_

_“Nobody wants to hear your Wattpad story come to life Nana,” Donghyuck quips, earning a hard glare from the brunet and Jeno only laughs, eyes disappearing as he offers Mark a chip from his lunch tray._

_“Jaem’ is half right though, you should stop being so mopey, plus you actually have to give those things back to him, right? Maybe you’ll get over the crush you had as a young, impressionable tween when you realise that he might’ve just been a nice, helpful boy,” the raven-haired male offers his two cents and Mark is oddly surprised at how well-spoken the younger is, although the latter part of his speech hits a little close to home._

_“Apart from Jeno actually saying something vaguely intelligent, I say you should go for it! You’re sixteen now, the perfect age to fall in love and get dicked-”_

_“And enjoy yourself hyung!” Jaemin shoots Donghyuck a look of disgust before batting his eyelashes at Mark, who’s deciding whether to throw hands at the smug junior or to concede to Jaemin’s tempting gaze and make the brave attempt of mentioning the fateful day to the golden senior or to follow Jeno’s advice and just give the elder back his darn things and get over his silly crush._

‘Silly crush’ is not all-encompassing enough for his pounding heartbeat as Jaehyun’s arm brushes up against his and they’re both watching the same match but Mark can’t focus on his team when the boy he’s been hopelessly pining over for the last two years is sitting right beside him.

 

But Kun, the secret weapon, strikes again and although Mark’s mind is not fully functional right now, he watches his teammate make an incredible lay-up and score, which leaves him breathless as he leaps out of his seat and whoops as loud as he can, shocking the player next to him as he runs off to his team, eager to join in on the throwing of the Chinese player in the air.

 

While Mark celebrates with his team as the buzzer goes off, signalling the end of the match and a victory to the blues-and-whites, he doesn’t catch the wistful smile that appears on Jaehyun’s face as he watches the team celebrate and in particular, Mark throwing himself into Kun’s arms as he screams “YOU LEGEND!” and squeezes the life out of the older player.

 

 

“You’ve grown up well,” Jaehyun murmurs to himself, as he stands up, brushing off non-existent fluff on his basketball shorts before walking back to his own team, the wistful smile on his face morphing into one of joy as he reminisces a particular rainy day in the summer of 2013.

 

 

_“Make sure you don’t get home too late Jae!”_

_“Mmm’kay Ma, love you!”_

_Jaehyun kisses his mother on the cheek before leaping out of the front door, peanut butter and jelly sandwich in between his teeth as he prepares himself to tackle down six hours of school so he can get back onto the court and practice with his new basketball._

_Soon enough the six hours end as fast as they began and Jaehyun races down to the local court to start practising his shooting for the team’s big game on Friday afternoon. After Johnny told him that his shots were ‘Killer! Dude, you’re gonna smash them on Friday!’ in his American accent that Jaehyun only distinctly remembers himself having a while ago, he’s fuelled with a newfound passion for making shots from different areas of the court, imagining defenders surrounding him as he drives his way around them and makes the point-_

_The pouring rain interrupts his imaginary game and he runs under the shelter, forgetting about his ball as it falls through the basket and rolls off the court, into the muddy grass, and onto the footpath where an unsuspecting boy, who looks about a trip and scrape away from crying- and there it is. Jaehyun dashes towards the student, who’s maybe crying if the hiccups coming from his shaking body are anything to go by. Crap, he feels terrible._

_“I’m so sorry about the ball! Are you alright, buddy?” Jaehyun scans for any severe injuries apart from the nasty graze on the boy’s knee._

_“I-I’m fine! Just leave me alone, please.” The boy is clearly not fine, clutching his bloody knee and backpack with trembling hands and Jaehyun refuses to leave him alone._

_“Can- can I at least get you a bandaid? Umbrella? I can help you over to the shade so you don’t get more wet.” Jaehyun offers as politely as he can, and the younger clearly realises that he needs help but doesn’t answer quick enough. So, he takes the matter into his own hands and hauls the boy up from under the arms and helps him over to the shelter, where his makeshift first aid kit lies in his backpack._

_“Are you cold? Do you need a hoodie?” He stares at the dripping wet jumper that clings onto the boy’s skinny frame and frowns when he hears the boy’s teeth chatter. He first feels around for his bandages, squashed underneath his textbooks and pencil case, creased but not useless, not forgetting the tube of cream he knows all too well, and his rumpled hoodie._

_“Here, I have a bandage and uh, antiseptic? And my jumper! It’s a little big but yours isn’t doing you any good- also do you need an umbrella? I have that too, it’s bent but it still works-”_

_“Don’t you need these though? And why are you helping me?” The befuddled expression on the smaller boy’s face is kind of adorable as his eyes widen comically and his eyebrows (that kind of remind him of seagulls) lift as well, when Jaehyun smiles in reply._

_“It was my fault I didn’t catch the ball in time and that’s why you fell, it’s only fair I help you out right?” Jaehyun thinks that’s the most logical and morally right thing to do, yet the boy’s face is still one of bewilderment as he reaches in for the wipes at the bottom of his bag and examines the younger’s (he assumes by the short height and soft features) scraped knee._

_“It’s gonna hurt, are you alright with that?” Jaehyun starts to edge the wipe around the graze tentatively, unsure of the boy’s reaction to the sting but he continues when the younger remains silent, save for the slight flinch when Jaehyun gets to the crux of the scrape. The bandage just covers the whole scratch and Jaehyun exhales, not realising he wasn’t quite breathing while sticking on the bandage._

_“I get scraped and all bloody when I play basketball so I’m kind of an expert at this, you could say,” Jaehyun quickly justifies why he was so eager to get the younger all patched up, and packs away his things hurriedly, too embarrassed to see the boy’s eyes glaze over him in wonder._

_“It’s still sprinkling a little but it’ll stop soon- here take this,” Jaehyun makes an effort to pat away the creases in the hoodie and places it gently in the younger boy’s lap, as well as his trusty umbrella, which has seen better days, slipping it into the brunet’s palm._

_“Take this too, I might be wrong about the rain but it’s better to be safe than sorry!” Jaehyun runs a hand through his wet hair and smiles, thanking the gods that he hasn’t frightened off the younger with his weird school-nurse side that only really comes out for his own injuries._

_“I- thank you, how will I give this all back to you?” the younger boy stutters, unsure of what to do with his hands as he slips on Jaehyun’s hoodie, which is ridiculously large on him, the sleeves reaching way past his hands and Jaehyun tries his best to not gush._

_“It’s alright! Keep them, or return them to me the next time you see me, it’s no big deal buddy.” Jaehyun does love that jumper and has an odd bond with the bent umbrella but he figures the younger needs them more than he does. His mum might question his lack of belongings but she won’t mind, he doesn’t think-_

_“Oh crap, I’ve got to go! See you later buddy!” Jaehyun doesn’t need a watch to realise how fast time has gone while he was nursing this strange (but cute) boy’s large gash but he scoops up his bag as well, slinging it over one shoulder and grabs his unopened chocolate milk before sprinting out. He doesn’t forget to wave at the boy, who offers him a tiny smile in return and Jaehyun’s heart quickens ever so slightly as he races back home, unsure if it’s because of the incredible speed he’s running at or a particular doe-eyed boy._

_He forgets his basketball in favour of getting home before his mother scolds him for coming into the house dripping wet and late, and it sucks but he figures it isn’t that big of a deal, because he got to meet a cute boy, and got a tiny smile out of him. Plus, basketballs are replaceable, that smile isn’t._

_His shooting unsurprisingly, hasn’t improved, but Johnny reassures that he is still “killer!” and they do win the game on Friday, but Jaehyun thinks it’s his team’s hard work and effort that wins it, not so much his own skill but it’s okay - he has next time._

_Next time comes around in the next year, when his skills really do shine through and he gets recognised as one of the region’s best players, known for his amazing attack and good looks, which Jaehyun refuses to believe much to Sicheng’s chagrin._

_“Everybody finds you cuter when you refuse to believe the fact that you’re hot, it’s annoying,” the Chinese boy complains, hitting him with no real malice and Jaehyun only flushes at his best friend’s words, still unable to accept the compliment but appreciates it anyway._

_He grows into his body during the year, filling into his shoulders and shooting up several inches, again to Sicheng’s dismay, and he even considers dyeing his hair brown, to which the team fully accepts and whoopees when he comes into the gymnasium a brunet. He honestly doesn’t get what the big deal is and Johnny slaps him on the back, which almost sends him flying, and says ‘Dude! People are gonna be falling left, right, and centre at you before they even see the ball coming, for real man!’ in English, which Jaehyun understands the bulk of and the tips of his ears redden._

_He still hopes his basketball skills are on par with his so-called ‘hot appearance’, as he practises at lunches and recesses, before school and after school, and during every waking hour it seems, he’s thinking about that one move he saw in that one NBA match online that was really dope, or how he can improve his footwork so he doesn’t trip like that one time when-_

2014

 

“Jaehyun? Are you ready?” Taeil’s voice interrupts his daydream as the team stands up, ready to play and he gets off the bench and takes a sip of his water.

 

 

“Yeah, sorry hyung,” he apologises and the elder only smiles, ruffling Jaehyun’s brown hair and although the redhead doesn’t have to quite tip-toe, it’s a little funny how he has to extend his entire arm just to reach his head.

 

 

“You know, it’s really unfair how some people in life are vertically-stunted when-”

 

 

The whistle trills and Jaehyun misses the rest of Taeil’s sentence when he catches sight of a familiar pair of big eyes and high cheekbones.

 

 

He’s grown up, not quite the short boy Jaehyun fixed up under the shelter but still retaining those soft cheeks and those curved eyebrows that truly do look like seagulls. He learns his name when he hears someone call for a ‘Oi Mark Lee!’ and the younger boy swivels around, catching the ball with ease and Jaehyun knows he shouldn’t be observing the boy when they’re actually versing each other in the semi-finals but something warms his chest as he watches Mark play with such vigour and confidence.

 

They do meet eyes and the way Mark’s eyes widen gives Jaehyun deja vu but the ball flies into his hands before he can keep internally blathering on about how much the small boy’s grown and he passes to Sicheng, who dunks it and scores.

 

They win that game by a basket and when they line up to shake hands, he hears Mark say “Oh shit,” soft enough for not everyone to hear but loud enough for Jaehyun to and chuckle.

 

 

“Aren’t you too young to be saying that word?” Jaehyun remembers enough of the foreign language to know that it’s some form of a cuss and Mark freezes, eyes trained on the floor and he makes a note that the younger’s awkwardness has still remained after all this time.

 

 

“Good game, hope to see you soon buddy,” Jaehyun grips the brunet’s smaller hand as they walk off the court and that’s that.

 

2015

 

He winks at Mark this time, just to see his reaction and he bites his lip so he doesn’t crack up at the sight of the younger tripping over his own feet.

 

2016

 

Jaehyun wouldn’t call himself an impulsive person, his decisions usually calculated and well thought-out to avoid mistakes and uncomfortable situations but here he is, sweat dripping down his forehead as he dashes towards the team with the blue and white jerseys who are just about to leave the stadium, before zeroing in on a brunet who’s laughing at something the taller orange-haired male said.

 

 

“Wait! Mark!”

 

 

Mark turns around and his mouth almost unhinges when he sees the source of the sound.

 

 

“Jaehyun?”

 

 

Jaehyun wheezes slightly when he gets to the brunet, and he’s acutely aware of the sweat rolling down his face and his neck but he has to do this now before he waits another year and misses another opportunity.

 

 

“D-do you remember that time? Three years ago? When my ball-”

 

 

“When I tripped over your basketball and you tended to my knee like a professional nurse and gave me your jumper and umbrella?” Mark blurts out, visibly deflating as if he’s been holding in those words since forever and Jaehyun lets the ends of his lips curl into a smile.

 

 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who remembered,” he says softly and by this time, the whole team has stopped to watch their interaction and by the steely look on the captain’s face, Mark probably needs to leave soon.

 

 

“Just- uh, meet me at the court? At five maybe?” Mark’s pupils literally tremble and Jaehyun thinks he’s made a grave mistake before two males appear next to Mark at the speed of light.

 

 

“He says yes! He’d _love_ to! Now if you’ll excuse us, we’ll see you guys tomorrow!” the boy with the orange hair as well as another boy, who has crescent shaped eyes and a mop of black hair chime in together, and they both drag a still-shocked Mark by the shoulders out of the door and Jaehyun only waves hesitantly before the team disappears out the door.

 

 

“Now pray tell, why you just asked that terrified boy out,” Sicheng’s voice echoes in the empty stadium and Jaehyun is too busy smiling to himself that he doesn’t realise the Chinese boy’s presence until he gets pinched in the arm.

 

 

After Jaehyun empties out the not-crush-but-strange-fascination he’s been harbouring for the younger boy over the last three years, Sicheng gives him another pinch on the side this time.

 

 

“Dude! Why did you never tell me this, this is _so adorable_ ,” Sicheng whines and Jaehyun’s ears give away his answer.

 

 

“Jae’s ears are bright red, spill the tea Winwins,” Johnny saunters up to them and Sicheng snorts at the elder’s misuse of the term but doesn’t waste his time recounting the entire saga and Taeil pops in somewhere in that time, along with their new recruit, Renjun.

 

 

“Oh, surgeon Jaehyun come through? Coming to the rescue to fix up a poor boy’s _boo boo_ -”

 

 

“C’mere Injun, and I’ll _give_ you a boo-boo,” The younger feigns asphyxiation as Jaehyun curls his arm around Renjun’s neck, taking a quick jab at the brunet’s sides while he’s at it

 

 

“I just knew my way around grazes and scratches, so being the good samaritan I am, I decided to help someone-”

 

 

“Someone _awfully cute_ ,” Sicheng supplies unnecessarily and Jaehyun hits him with his free arm that isn’t trapping the other Chinese student in a weak headlock.

 

 

“ _Someone_ out because it was really my fault, but then I saw him at our game two years ago and I was just, I dunno’, fascinated?”

 

 

“More like _enamoured-_ the heart eyes you gave him at our first game made me think you were dreaming about Zac Efron,” Taeil comments and Jaehyun is firstly, feeling attacked for his crush on the High School Musical protagonist, and secondly, cursing his adolescent body for its dead giveaways.

 

 

“Anyway, have fun on your little date dude,” Johnny gives him a greasy wink and Jaehyun can’t hide his distaste, resulting in his caramel tresses being terrorised by the taller male. Renjun scoffs at the state of his hair and Jaehyun gives him another pinch before the team go their separate ways, the afternoon sun settling low in the sky as they do so.

 

 

Jung Jaehyun, with his whole chest, skips his way to the basketball courts.

 

 

Sure enough, someone’s sitting by the wooden table and at the sight of the head of coffee-coloured locks, Jaehyun jogs a little faster.

 

 

“Hey Mark,” Mark jumps up at the sound of his voice, looking shyly at Jaehyun before waving and Jaehyun loses all feeling in his legs.

 

 

“H-hi Jaehyun,” the way the younger pinks is just as charming as before and Jaehyun has to bite his lip from smiling too wide.

 

 

“I got us some stuff from the convenience store, here you go,” Mark slides a carton of chocolate milk to him, head ducked and Jaehyun’s cheeks flood with warmth despite the cool breeze flowing through the park.

 

 

“You remembered? I mean, maybe you didn’t but I had chocolate milk the last time-”

 

 

“I remembered, I kind of remember everything actually,” Mark’s voice is almost inaudible but Jaehyun catches it and his eyes crinkle into crescents.

 

 

“I thought I was a little weird for remembering everything so vividly,” he confesses softly before taking a quick gulp of milk, avoiding the younger’s gaze but a giggle that comes from the brunet startles him.

 

 

“I felt the exact same way, but it might be even stranger since I still have your things, ready to give to you but I’ve never had the guts to go up to you all those times to give them back,” Mark keeps his gaze in his lap, sipping meekly at his own banana milk and Jaehyun’s brows quirk up.

 

 

“That’s kind of sweet, even though I do remember telling you to keep them,”

 

 

“But it was still your jumper, and your umbrella, and your ball!” the brunet exclaims, clearly flustered and shocked at Jaehyun’s indifference.

 

 

“I doubt that jumper would fit me anymore, but I mean it might still for you,” Mark pouts at the jab about his petite size and Jaehyun tells his heart to shut up.

 

 

“And that umbrella has had its time with me, I think you and I both agree it needs to go,” Jaehyun swings his legs over the bench and grins at Mark, who nods his head solemnly in agreement.

 

 

“It never rained after you left, but I think your umbrella was done for the moment you took it out of your bag,”

 

 

Jaehyun snorts, because the younger isn’t wrong and he finds himself grinning when he sees Mark’s nose scrunch up as he laughs openly, ends of his lips reaching his ears.

 

 

“I honestly thought I lost that ball forever, but I guess you have that too,” the younger smiles sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

 

 

“It looked new too but I didn’t know how to give it back to you let alone who you even were until, our first game against each other,”

 

 

They’re both silent for a little while and Jaehyun hears Mark shuffle uncomfortably next to him.

 

 

“Did you know who I was then?” Curiosity flickers in his eyes and Jaehyun _really_ doesn’t want to tell him that he was watching over him the entire game.

 

 

“Uh, yeah kind of, I recognised your eyes and your- your eyebrows,” Mark scowls and Jaehyun dreads that he’s made a mistake until a drawn-out whine slips from the smaller boy.

 

 

“Everybody thinks my eyebrows look like seagulls and it sucks ‘cos it’s true,” the brunet kicks at the air in annoyance and a bout of laughter erupts from him, head thrown back in amusement at the younger’s little antic.

 

 

“You said it, not me,” Jaehyun teases, and he doesn’t realise he’s inching closer to the brunet until their arms brush against each other and he senses Mark tensing at the contact.

 

 

“Sorry, I’m just gonna scoot-” He slides back to where he was before, not wanting to make the younger any more uncomfortable than he already might be but Mark places a tentative hand on his wrist and now it’s his turn to jump at the gentle gesture.

 

 

“It’s okay, I’m just a little overwhelmed because we’re actually, like talking and I’m not just watching you play across the court and you’re like, you know, _right here_ ,” Mark makes some wild gestures, hand leaving Jaehyun’s wrist and Jaehyun stops himself from looking so petulant at the loss of contact.

 

 

“Same here - it’s weird seeing you properly too, after all this time if that’s what you mean,” Jaehyun drinks up the last of his milk and out of habit, shoots the bottle into the bin.

 

 

“Right? -oh my God I’ve never been able to make it before, how did you do that?!” Mark exclaims, holding his bottle the way he would hold a basketball, proper form and all, and misses the bin entirely. Jaehyun cracks up at the younger’s crestfallen expression and picks up the empty bottle from the grass.

 

 

“Honestly just imagine the garbage bag is the net and throw it like you would a piece of rubbish, not a _ball_ ,” Jaehyun watches the brunet aim for the bin like he suggests and he does make it in, whooping as he hears the bottle clang against the inside of the bin instead of the outside.

 

 

“Cute,” Jaehyun whispers to himself as Mark makes a show of celebrating, shouting a series of ‘let’s get it!’s and the ends of Jaehyun’s lips curl by themselves as he watches the younger act a fool after such a small victory.

 

 

“Sorry, that was my first time, if you couldn’t tell,” Mark doesn’t hide his reaction like before, a wide grin etched onto his face instead and Jaehyun wonders why they hadn’t talked to each other sooner.

 

 

“Don’t apologise, it was cute- nice! It was _nice_ seeing you celebrate such an impressive shot,” the elder drawls out and Mark hits the elder playfully, immediately retracting his hand when he realises what he’s done, and Jaehyun tells himself ‘screw it’ when he catches the younger’s wrist lightly.

 

 

“It’s okay! Your attempt at a punch deserves an A+ for effort,” Mark furrows his brows at the elder’s blatant mockery of his strength, and throws a few more hits, a strangled noise escaping his throat when Jaehyun pokes back at him.

 

 

The wind grows colder by the time the afternoon sun has settled into a bed of pinks and oranges and Jaehyun realises the time when a shiver creeps under his short sleeves.

 

 

“It’s pretty late, are you alright getting home by yourself?”

 

 

“I did it three years ago, I think I’m pretty equipped to make it back home by myself hyung,” Mark jokes and Jaehyun would be lying if he said he was only a little stunned at the ‘hyung’ tacked onto the end of the younger’s sentence. Thankfully, Mark doesn’t notice Jaehyun’s slight malfunction as they clean up after themselves and make their way to the footpath.

 

 

“Just trying to look out for you, take advantage of my kind heart why don’t you,” Mark laughs again, shaking as he throws his head back and his features scrunch up in an awfully endearing manner. The sound of the younger’s laughter isn’t particularly sweet but it sends a river of warmth down Jaehyun’s spine. He doesn’t know if he can hold himself together when Mark Lee is this charming.

 

 

“This was really nice,” Mark’s eyes are a pretty shade of hazel, complimenting his tanned skin and although the height different is only slight, a smile tugs at the edge of his lips when he sees how the younger has to angle his head.

 

 

“It was, wasn’t it? We should do this again sometime,”

 

 

Jaehyun is too busy hunting for his phone in his pockets to catch Mark’s cheeks blooming cherry red.

 

 

“Here, give me your number,” the elder passes his phone to Mark, who has his own phone in his hand, a battered Samsung that Jaehyun tries his best not to snigger at, but the younger catches him holding in his laughter.

 

 

“Leave my Android baby alone! We’ve been through a lot together,” Mark cradles his phone before passing it to Jaehyun with narrowed eyes and Jaehyun only crinkles his nose as he types in his contact with the foreign keyboard.

 

 

Jaehyun gets his iPhone back with a simple ‘Mark Lee’ with a basketball emoji tacked on the end whilst he types in his own contact as ‘Jae hyung’ with a milk emoji, frowning slightly at how _un-cute_ it is compared to the Apple version. Mark squints to see the name and guffaws at the emoji, and it’s only now that Jaehyun realises how much Mark laughs at everything and nothing. Now _that’s_ cute.

 

 

“See you soon, hopefully?” Jaehyun asks, hope stringed onto his words and Mark smiles, teeth and all.

 

 

‘Be still, my beating heart,’ Jaehyun admonishes to himself.

 

 

“Of course hyung,”

 

 

The sun is most definitely gone now, and even though the sky is tinged with hues of blue and violet, Jaehyun can still see the brunet’s glimmering eyes staring back at his, nothing in between them but the sound of cicadas chittering away in the trees and the hum of traffic in the distance.

 

 

Mark clears his throat and Jaehyun snaps out of it, melting at the sight of that small smile that tugs on the younger’s lips as Mark waves and Jaehyun waves back. Honest to God, he skips again back home that night, bright brown eyes and high cheekbones infiltrating his mind for the whole night.

 

 

 **jae hyung** 🍼

_hey mark! i was wondering if you and your team_

_wanted to play a practice game with my_

_team this afternoon?_

**jae hyung** 🍼

_only if you’re free tho it’s nbd_

**mark lee 🏀**

_yeah i’m down hyung!_

_let me ask my friends if they’re_

_okay with it!_

_4 at the court?_

**jae hyung** 🍼

_you got it bro :D_

**mark lee 🏀**

_:D_

_also they’re free!_

_we’ll meet you in a bit_

_see you hyung (o^▽^o)_

 

Jaehyun maybe wants to _die_ when he realises Mark uses kaomojis.

One practice game leads to another, and another, until they’re playing games with each other almost every afternoon and it’s inevitable when Jaehyun and Mark grow closer in more ways than one. Their limbs tangling together becomes a common occurrence when Doyoung insists all three of them can fit on the bench, Mark’s smaller frame folding into Jaehyun’s naturally when the ebony-haired elder does manage to squeeze himself into the seat. Jaehyun throws his arm around Mark out of habit when they’re puffed out on the grass after a particularly gruelling session, fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of the younger’s neck as Mark curls into Jaehyun’s chest despite his aversion to physical contact. In turn, he plays with Jaehyun’s fingers out of boredom (it doesn’t make Jaehyun’s heart race at a million miles per minute, no way), pinching the elder’s cheeks just to mess with him, and the wide-eyed look he gives him when they sing the exact same song and lyrics at the same time, his jaw dropping as he whoops, hi-fiving Jaehyun with an ‘Aye! Hyung, it’s like we’re _soulmates_ ,’ that makes his stomach churn and flip inside out.

 

He reaches out for banana milk instead of chocolate when he goes to the convenience store on his own by accident and when Mark tells him that he’s hoarded ten cartons of chocolate milk out of mistake with a sheepish smile, Jaehyun blushes like a rose in bloom.

 

It takes Mark dashing onto the court, thin framed glasses perched atop his nose and backpack sliding haphazardly off his shoulders as he tells Jaehyun, in a flurry of English and Korean, that he got the highest mark in that chemistry quiz he told him about a few weeks ago. To which, Jaehyun throws his arms around the younger, pride swelling in his chest as he tells him how proud he is, earning a giggle from the younger as his arms wrap around Jaehyun’s waist in return.

 

When Jaehyun lets go, Mark’s staring at him with those radiant, hazel pools, glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose, ebony hair tousled by the wind, suntanned skin glistening in the sunlight.

 

And _shit_ , Jaehyun thinks he Might Be In Love.

 

It gets him feeling all types of ways when he realises that their lives don’t just intersect with that one rainy day in 2013 and basketball anymore. Their circles grow wider, overlapping in all different sectors as their respective teams and friends begin to mingle together on a daily, not only linked by monthly basketball matches but by Jaehyun and Mark being attached at the hip. Renjun fits in with the 00’ trio like he was always meant to be there, Sicheng finds friendship within Kun, a fellow native and develops a strange love-hate relationship with the ever so coquettish Nakamoto Yuta. The older players get along swimmingly with Taeyong, Doyoung, Ten, and Jungwoo- awkward conversations morphing into friendly jabs, whether it be Jungwoo attacking Taeil for his ‘golf-dad’ wardrobe, or Johnny and Ten ganging up on Taeyong and Doyoung for their unresolved romantic tension. But nothing quite compares to the instantaneous yet deep-seated relationship that develops between Jaehyun and Mark.

 

Jaehyun links Mark to any odd Soundcloud song he finds that would fit the younger’s ‘chill vibes’ playlist as well as albums by obscure artists, smiling to himself when he catches the younger listening to them on Spotify on repeat. Conversely, Mark tags him in posts with a ‘omg bro this reminded me of you’ and sends him crack videos that Jaehyun always doubles over laughing at, dropping his impending essays and assignments the moment his phone lights up with a certain ‘mark lee 🏀’ quadruple texting him.

 

Mark doesn’t need a verbal indication to know when the elder isn’t feeling so hot, offering his arms, an afternoon in the park with Daniel Caesar’s Get You on repeat and a chilled chocolate milk in his hand.

 

Jaehyun fills in the gaps when Mark can’t find the right words, both in English and Korean, frustration evident in his eyes when he’s unable to vocalise his thoughts, and he isn’t exaggerating when he thinks he’s telepathic - but only with Mark.

 

But it gets all too much when Jaehyun finds himself missing his other half when the younger goes back to Canada to visit his family.

 

 

“Stop moping, lovesick fool!” a pillow hits him square in the face as Sicheng marches into his room, hands on his hips and a pointed look on his face, directed straight at Jaehyun.

 

 

“But I miss him! A lot!” Jaehyun whines into the assailant pillow and the Chinese boy groans at his grousing.

 

 

“Jesus Jaehyun, you don’t even have the balls to confess to him, let alone talk about him like you’re missing a part of your soul,”

 

 

It hits too close to home as he makes another noise of agony and Sicheng squeezes him through the duvet Jaehyun’s decided to swaddle himself in.

 

 

“Wanna play a game of horse? For old times’ sake?” his friend offers and with the lack of reply, he groans again and thumps Jaehyun in the shoulder for extra measure before he gets off the bed.

 

 

“Why do I even bother- Contact me when you’re actually dating Mark and not dipping your feet between romantic and platonic!” Sicheng’s yell echoes from the bottom of the stairs and Jaehyun wails into the pillow because Sicheng is right, like he always is and something ugly pools in the pit of his stomach.

 

 

It’s nice being able to hold Mark in the afternoons, backpacks strewn across the bench and his arms curled over the younger as he rests his head on Jaehyun’s shoulder. It’s nice, sending him good morning texts with a bunch of kaomojis in between each word just to clown on him when really, he means every single emotion held within them. It’s nice holding the brunet’s hand, feeling the younger’s smaller fingers slot between his perfectly and not having to talk about it, about whatever they are. It’s nice being able to love Mark without putting a label to it and Jaehyun doesn’t want to sever the comfortable bond they’ve threaded over the last six months. Not yet.

 

Because Mark Lee deserves the entire world and Jaehyun isn’t that, he’s far from it actually. His underwhelming personality, plain traits only supported by his better than average appearance and half-redeemable basketball skills, combined with his fear of disappointment and failure, is all Jung Jaehyun really is. But sometimes, just sometimes, he lets himself believe Mark feels the same way, that the touches linger a second longer, his eyes are on him when he thinks Jaehyun isn’t paying attention, actions and words that make it hard for Jaehyun to pretend they’re reserved for just friends when it’s coupled with those overwhelming eyes glazed over with an emotion Jaehyun refuses to believe is anything other than misguided admiration.

 

It’s easier this way, because he can’t bear to confess, can’t place that burden onto the shoulders of someone who doesn’t deserve the emotional baggage that those three dreaded words that constantly threaten to slip every time he sees him, carry.

 

2016 - Early November

 

Jaehyun is acting weird. And not in the sense where he’s in that mood where he makes really bad jokes and starts breaking out into dance for no reason. Not in the sense where he’s whiny and clings onto Mark more so than usual.

 

He’s avoiding Mark and it hurts.

 

Now Mark is gullible and a fool half the time but he isn’t stupid. He’s been on holiday for the last two weeks and all he’s done to the elder was send a few texts every week updating him on Canada to which the elder replied promptly to with no abnormal punctuation or capitalisation, tacked on with a healthy number of emoticons. Mark constitutes _that_ as normal behaviour but now that Jaehyun is rejecting his invitations for milk tea, anime binge sessions, and basketball of all things, Mark knows there’s something the elder is keeping from him. And it would be okay if Jaehyun wasn’t quite comfortable with telling Mark, perhaps it was a personal issue he had to look after on own- but the moment he sees the elder playing ball with Sicheng and Doyoung on Friday, dimpled smile rivalling the sun and laughs bubbling out of his mouth, Mark doesn’t know if he should be angry or sad or both.

 

He doesn’t entertain the idea of Jaehyun reading into Mark’s actions, realising how he truly feels, and being callous enough to ignore him instead of telling him upfront that he doesn’t reciprocate the same feelings. Mark could easily will his emotions away, no matter how ingrained they had become after all this time, if it meant still being able to call the elder a friend.

 

 

_“Maybe he’s in love with you and can’t bear to talk to you let alone look you in the eye because he’s scared he might fall into your swirling-”_

_“Jaem’, how many times do we have to tell you to stop projecting your fantasies on Mark? Being friends with a Wattpad author is greying me,”_

_“As if you’re not thinking the exact same thing ‘Hyuck!”_

_“For your information Nana, I’m thinking Mark should drag Jaehyun hyung by the ear to the basketball courts and ask him what the hell is up,”_

_“Can Mark hyung even reach?”_

_“Nobody asked you Jisung!”_

 

 

_“For once, I agree with Duckie,”_

_“Thank you Jeno! Finally somebody appreciates me in this house,”_

_“I still think Jaehyun hyung is head over heels-”_

Mark ends the video call shortly after and massages his temples. Maybe he should follow Donghyuck’s advice, which is a first considering the younger’s only goal in life is plotting his imminent death- but it’s out of his character to be confrontational and he couldn’t bear to drag Jaehyun out of his house without his permission. And he actually doesn’t know if he could reach.

 

He misses the elder’s dimpled grin, soft voice and dumb jokes- he’s been deprived of Jaehyun’s presence for two weeks and the moment he comes back, the elder can’t seem to stand his, leaving Mark a dismal, physical and emotional mess.

 

 

“For the love of God, Mark Lee can you _please_ get your ass out of bed?!”

 

 

Someone-who-isn’t-Jaehyun stomps into his room and by the rhythm and sheer volume of the steps, Mark knows exactly who it is.

 

 

“Jesus hyung, is that an _indent_ in your mattress?! You don’t even have memory foam, when’s the last time you actually moved your body?!” Donghyuck’s voice is too goddamn loud for this early in the morning and Mark retaliates by throwing a lion plushie at the intruder.

 

 

“Your aim is still ridiculously good and you didn’t even look at me, what the hell,”

 

 

Mark revels in his tiny victory.

 

 

“Come on hyung, do you want to get burgers with me, Jeno and Jaem’? I won’t hide ketchup under your bun this time!” Donghyuck almost sounds kind, sassy tone subdued to a coaxing inflection, and Mark would take the younger up on the offer if he knew he didn’t look like absolute trash from staying in bed for a concerning number of hours, dreaming about golden eyes and dimples.

 

 

“Come _on_ Markie- you either eat burgers with us or I will kidnap Jaehyun hyung and dump him on your bedroom floor,” Mark knows for a fact that Donghyuck would execute exactly that, and at an unsettling speed so he doesn’t hesitate in ripping his blanket from his body, shivering at the cool temperature he’s been unaccustomed to for approximately fifteen hours.

 

 

“You are so dumb, I can’t believe-” Donghyuck mutters and Mark hears him perfectly but doesn’t have the energy to refute the claim and clambers off the bed, wandering to his closet to pull out something presentable.

 

 

“Sit down old man, you look like you’re gonna throw out your back if you move any more- let _me_ choose your fit,” the younger sits him down as he rifles through Mark’s meticulously organised closet, ranging from whites to the occasional pop of colour then to blacks, which gets ruined the moment Donghyuck lays his hands on a coat hanger.

 

 

“Okay here! Now shoo, into the bathroom where the first thing you’ll do is shave that tragic goatee off your baby face,”

 

 

Donghyuck shoves him into the washroom and Mark immediately feels around his chin, scowling at the evident lack of facial hair but heeds to the younger’s instructions, squeezing into some blue ripped skinnies that he hasn’t touched in a while and slipping on a white tee with a graphic at the back, complete with a grey flannel that Mark doesn’t remember owning but at the state of his wardrobe after Donghyuck’s raid, he doesn’t question it.

 

 

“When you actually make an effort to look decent, you look really hot, I hate it,” the brunet remarks once Mark steps out of the bathroom, fluffy hair styled naturally over his forehead, parted to the side and his eyes looking more livelier than twenty minutes before.

 

 

“Why do you always have to add an insult to every compliment you give me-”

 

 

“No time to waste Mark Lee!” the brunet yanks him by the wrist down the stairs and out the door, barely giving him time to pull on his shoes before they’re literally dashing down the street to the burger joint a few blocks away.

 

 

“Hyuck! Please I haven’t moved for fifteen hours! _Why the hell are we running_ -” Mark wheezes as they skid to a halt when the familiar firetruck-red doors are right in front of them, and Donghyuck looks untouched, not a single hair out of place while Mark looks and feels electrified, and not in a good way.

 

 

“You’ll see,” the younger has the audacity to wink at him before they enter the restaurant, and Mark has barely gotten a second to catch his breath before his lungs get crushed in a hug.

 

 

“ _Markkeuri!_ We missed you,” a voice that sounds an awful lot like Na Jaemin rings in his right and a noise of agreement echoes in his left.

 

 

He’s got tufts of brown and pink all up in his face, tickling his cupid’s bow as he reciprocates the group hug.

 

 

“Hey to you guys too I guess,” he says, voice muffled by the amount of hair in his mouth and the two younger males nuzzle further into his chest.

 

 

“Okay you two can cut it out now, we need to get oxygen flowing through his airways,”

 

 

Jaemin and Jeno reluctantly let go of Mark, and it would be a lie if the elder said he didn’t miss his friends dearly whilst he was in his Lack Of Jaehyun induced hibernation.

 

 

“Eat up, we ordered your favourite,” Jaemin sits Mark down into the booth, pushing a plate in front of him with bright eyes and Jeno slides a Coke can next to it.

 

 

“We need you fed before we interrogate you,” Jeno blurts out and Donghyuck kicks the raven-haired male from under the table.

 

 

Mark loses his appetite.

 

 

“And to think I actually missed you guys, what the hell-”

 

 

“Hyung, sit down please,” Donghyuck says, statement sounding more like a command as the younger tugs on his sleeve the moment he stands up, overcome with anger but guilt seeps through the cracks when he sees the hurt look on the younger’s face.

 

 

“You can’t expect us to pretend like everything is okay when you ignore our calls and texts, leaving me to actually go to your house and threaten you to come outside,” Mark’s never heard Donghyuck this angry in all of their years as friends and he’s ashamed at how quick he was to leave when all they wanted was an explanation.

 

 

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Mark apologises quietly, fingers pulling at the hem of his flannel but when Jaemin slips his hands into Mark’s own, he has the courage to meet eyes with them.

 

 

“We just need the truth hyung,” Jeno’s voice is soft, laced with sadness and the guilt sinks deeper into Mark’s chest, lodging itself right by his heart.

 

 

“And, you guys deserve that,”

 

 

Jaemin’s fingers running small circles around his knuckles reassures him.

 

 

“It sounds so stupid when- when I say it out loud, but Jaehyun hyung still isn’t talking to me and even after calling you guys that night, I still had no idea what to do. And it just really hurt? Because I haven’t seen him for two weeks and I miss him so much but it’s like he can’t even bear to see me anymore.” Voicing the root of his problems is cathartic, yet it reminds him of how immature and overdramatic he’s being. The fact that they’re sitting here, listening to him attentively is so much more than he deserves.

 

 

“Oh Markie,” Jaemin squeezes his hand, long fingers settling in between his and Jeno reaches over the table to hold his other hand. Donghyuck lets out a small exhale, and settles his head on Mark’s shoulder, his brown locks highlighted with streaks of the rainbow tickling Mark’s neck.

 

 

“Being in love sucks shit, doesn’t it?” the younger murmurs quiet enough for him to hear and Mark only makes a small noise of agreement.

 

 

“We don’t like seeing you hurt hyung, but I feel like the only way you’re gonna get over this is by talking to him, right? You should be the bigger person and ask him why he’s ignoring you when you haven’t done anything wrong,” Jeno says with a sense of imploration and Mark sinks lower into the red leather seats of the booth because Jaemin and Donghyuck look at him with the same sentiment.

 

 

He’s a coward for knowing the answer for so long, yet it takes his best friends to tell him with urgency in their eyes for him to realise that it’s the only answer.

 

 

“It’s okay to be afraid hyung, but you have us, you’ll always have us,” Jaemin says softly, voice inaudible to the surrounding tables and Jeno nods, brown hair falling over his eyes and it’s only now that Mark realises how quickly they’ve all grown.

 

 

There’s an unspoken _no matter what happens_ that goes at the end of the affirmation, and Mark wonders what he did in his past life to deserve the three of them.

 

 

“Thank you, really, I don’t deserve any of you,” his voice wavers, and they only huddle in further, their radiating warmth serving as a reply.

 

 

“You’ve always been such a softie Canada,” he can’t help but laugh at the endearing nickname Donghyuck hasn’t uttered since they were kids but Jeno and Jaemin join in, and the pain pricking at Mark’s chest fades away.

 

 

“After this, we can bully Doyoung hyung into shouting us ice-cream!” Jeno pipes up as Mark takes his first bite into the burger, while Jaemin and Donghyuck erupt in cheers, stealing his fries while they’re at it. Mark is too distracted by Jaemin trying to kiss him on the cheek, Donghyuck on his other side with a spoonful of ketchup ready to catapult onto his cheek, and Jeno’s too busy cracking up at the spectacle that they don’t see a six-foot tall male walk into the joint.

 

 

“Jae’, what do you want?”

 

 

Mark freezes mid-chew, and he’s only being a little melodramatic when he swears time freezes with him.

 

 

“Huh- oh I’ll get the Classic meal with extra fries, thanks Winwin,” the elder’s voice rings loud and clear, and Mark can’t take his eyes off him.

 

 

It’s because he looks worse for wear, dark circles a shade darker than the last time he saw him, and fatigue hangs off his shoulders like a deadweight. His skin is far from radiant, shining a dull grey and sinking into the crevices of his face. Mark doesn’t know how to feel. How _are_ you supposed to feel when the source of your own pain looks like he’s been through another world of suffering?

 

 

“Hyung, what are you looking- oh.” Donghyuck follows Mark’s line of sight and exhales heavily.

 

 

Jeno and Jaemin exchange displeased looks before looking back at Mark, gauging for his reaction.

 

 

But Mark gets up from the table before his mind can even process his actions and marches up towards the brunet, anger surging through his body like no other.

 

 

“Jung Jaehyun.”

 

 

He doesn’t know what’s come over him to act so out of his disposition- that being confronting his issues, synonymous to standing in front of Jaehyun’s table, blood thrumming in his veins.

 

 

“Mark?” Jaehyun snaps out of his daze, golden eyes meeting with his and _God_ , has Mark missed them. But he refuses to let himself gaze at the elder’s face like he’s been dreaming to for the last two weeks.

 

 

“Are you going to keep ignoring me or tell me what the hell has been up, because it sure as shit isn’t me.”

 

 

And the string of tension running taut in Mark’s chest for the last two weeks, threaded with fury, strung with confusion and heartbreak severs. Because the swirling pools of brown staring back at him grow glossy before tears begin falling down his cheeks in quick procession despite the elder wiping at them with the sleeves of his shirt as fast as he can.

 

 

“Hyung?” Mark forgets whatever underlying rage previously possessed his soul and crouches to get to eye-level with the elder, stunned by the tiny hiccups and sniffles shaking his body.

 

 

“Mark? Oh my God, what happened- Jaehyun why are you _crying_?!” Sicheng drops the tray of burgers unceremoniously onto the table with a large clang and stage-whispers the latter half of his sentence when he sees Jaehyun hiding his face into his shirt sleeve, shuddering with tiny sobs.

 

 

“I’d better take him home, I’m sorry- God, why am _I_ sorry when really he should be apologising to you, oh _God_ I’m so sorry Mark, I’ll see you later?” the Chinese boy huffs out in one breath, not forgetting to grab the brown paper bag holding their lunch as he hauls Jaehyun with his other arm out of the diner with a quick wave to Mark, who’s still dumbfounded and unable to comprehend what just happened in the last twenty seconds.

 

 

“Mark Lee! We told you to talk to him, not make him _cry_!” Donghyuck doesn’t even attempt to use his inside voice and Jeno slams his palm to the younger’s mouth when everyone in the diner swivels their heads to the source of the sound. Donghyuck makes a noise of protest and Jeno pinches him in the arm before sending Mark an apologetic look.

 

 

“Hyung, what-”

 

 

“I don’t even _know_ Jaem’, I mean I may have asked him what was going on with him _a little harshly_ but then he started to tear up and cry? But I can’t even scare a fly! Let alone make him sob-”

 

 

Mark whips out his phone as soon as he feels the vibration against his fingers, and there’s a text from a contact he hasn’t seen in a while.

 

 

 **jae hyung** ❤️

**4:26PM**

_meet me at the courts at 5?_

_please?_

Jaemin slides his hand into Mark’s and squeezes, eyes conveying all that needs to be said and Mark pushes through the firetruck-red doors, ignoring Donghyuck’s indignant voice following him out the exit.

 

 

“Where the hell is he going?!”

 

 

“Hyuck, please shut up,”

 

 

“Try me-”

 

 

Jeno kisses the brunet smack on the lips and a choked sound escapes both Jaemin and Donghyuck.

 

 

“Huh, it worked,”

 

 

“What the _fu_ -”

 

 

 

Mark, who remains blissfully unaware of his best friend’s (friends’? plural?) awakening, sprints faster than ever, lack of exercise catching up to him as his legs almost give out when he reaches the park.

 

And lo and behold, a mop of brown hair appears in his line of sight and Mark’s steps halve in size. Air can’t come up to his lungs quick enough.

 

His feet end up taking him to the bench and Jaehyun doesn’t notice his presence until something gets caught in Mark’s throat and he coughs loudly. The elder jumps at the abrupt noise and turns to face him, tear-stained cheeks, blotchy eyebags and all.

 

The silence is deafening and Mark can’t stand it.

 

 

“Hyung, are you alright?” his demeanour pales in comparison to merely thirty minutes before and Jaehyun offers him a small smile, one that pales in comparison to what Mark remembers gracing his face a mere two weeks ago.

 

 

“I am, and I’m sorry- for before, that wasn’t supposed to- _God_ Mark, I am so sorry, for everything,” the elder looks a few breaths from bursting into tears again but the guilt reflected in his pupils speak otherwise.

 

 

Mark sits down at the edge of the wooden seat, and the distance between them extends more than just centimetres when he sees what Jaehyun is holding in his lap.

 

 

“Is that your apology?” he asks, half out of curiosity and half out of disbelief, because does Jaehyun _actually_ think he can make up for the two weeks of pain and the subsequent heartbreak that Mark suffered with a bottle of banana milk-

 

 

“I was supposed to get chocolate,” his voice is soft enough to meld with the wind, and Mark doesn’t realise how small the elder looks in his white long-sleeved tee, large frame and broad shoulders curved and compressed into a shadow of what he used to be. Worry replaces his misdirected anger and permeates his mind, because now all he wants to know is what or who made his best friend with his beautiful smile and sweet nature, dwindle into this shell.

 

 

“I owe you an answer Mark, and I’m sorry it took me this long.” Jaehyun’s brown locks fall into his eyes when he looks up at Mark, fingers scratching at the lid of the milk bottle.

 

 

An apology is not even close to what Mark needs to hear right now.

 

 

“Hyung, you don’t owe-”

 

 

“But I do Mark, and it’s because of _this_ , that I hate myself more for hurting you,” Jaehyun gestures vaguely to him, voice rising in volume and eyes ignited with fire with a fuel Mark doesn’t recognise.

 

 

“I like you Mark Lee, God I think I even _love_ you, but you deserve someone better- you’re so forgiving and selfless, you honestly deserve the whole universe in your hands and I can’t give that to you, I don’t think I can be that person for you. This, this is why I couldn’t bear to meet with you or reply to your messages without being overwhelmed with all these emotions and thoughts-”

 

 

“But, why can’t you be that person for me?”

 

 

The sound of cicadas chittering away in the trees and the hum of traffic in the distance try their best to fill in the gaping hole between them.

 

 

“You say you love me hyung, but you’ve already assumed you’re not what I want or need before you’ve even asked me about what I believe. You say you love me but you tell me I deserve someone better. You say you _love_ me, but you’re giving up before I’ve even gotten the chance to say I love you back.”

 

 

Mark’s voice trembles with such agony that it shakes Jaehyun to the core, because of course he’d fuck up the apology he’s been trying to practise for the last two weeks-

 

 

“Jaehyun, please look at me,”

 

 

It takes him a few seconds to meet the younger’s gaze, but when he does, he’s flooded with immeasurable guilt. Mark’s eyes shine with tears and regret swells in his chest, climbing through his ribs and wringing his heart in ways unimaginable.

 

 

“I’ve liked you since I fell on the concrete and you showed me kindness and generosity I’d never experienced before. I’ve liked you since I saw you on the court for the first time, and every time after that. But I’ve loved you since you came up to me and asked me if I remembered, asked Mark Lee, who’s only ever _remembered_ for three years, remembered the boy who helped him on that rainy day in the summer of 2013. How can you tell me that I deserve someone better when you’re all I’ve ever wanted?”

 

 

Diamonds drip down the younger’s carved cheeks, twinkling in the moonlight like gems and piercing Jaehyun’s heart with every drop that slides down his jaw and into his lap.

 

 

“Mark, I’m-”

 

 

“Sorry? Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” he stands up, hands fisting at the hem of his shirt and Jaehyun doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what he can say to reverse time and take the pain out of Mark’s eyes that have always told him the truth.

 

 

“I need time, so please don’t- don’t contact me,”

 

 

He can’t bring himself to grab the younger’s wrist, try to explain himself and retract everything he’s said. He can’t hurt Mark more than he already has, yet as the cicadas chitter away in the trees and traffic hums in the distance, he wonders if doing nothing does everything.

 

 

Jaehyun doesn’t cry, he doesn’t give himself that right when he knows he’s causing someone the same torment, if not more. He imagines Mark, (‘soulmate’, whispers his mind), muffling his cries into his sky-blue quilt, friends at his side, rubbing his back and whispering affirmations so that he doesn’t sink further into the void that _he_ carved into his heart. The image is enough to make his chest ache and eyes water, but he wills the tears away yet the ache doesn’t fade.

 

When Sicheng tiptoes into his room the next afternoon, pity in his gaze, he refuses to let himself give in to the pair of arms that will forgive, justify his actions, soothe the pain. He can’t let himself have that.

 

But what he can’t stop himself from doing is missing the younger’s soft ashy brown strands in his fingertips, the scratchy yet soft voice humming melodies in his ears, radiant eyes expressing his raw, unadulterated emotions and thoughts. He misses the younger’s overflowing care and affection for everything and everyone around him, no matter how indistinct, how minute yet significant.

 

Jaehyun misses Mark like the moon misses the sun at the cusp of dawn and dusk - but like the moon, he is nothing without his light, enveloped in a blanket of ebony-coloured sky.

 

Yet as the sun rises, sitting high in the sky in the hours of the afternoon, the moon appears with it, white porous surface just visible in the same plane as the sun.

 

And it is this, that corresponds to Jaehyun waking up at the crack of dawn, sleep disrupted by visions of thin framed spectacles and gleaming hazel irises. A broken record spins with laughs, English words and phrases, soft murmurs of song, punctuated with ‘Jae’ hyung’ and it rings in his ears, ricochets off the walls of his bedroom, and smothers him.

 

The tape replays and Jaehyun has had enough of it.

 

 

Jaehyun’s decisions are usually calculated and well thought-out to avoid mistakes and uncomfortable situations, but he broke that habit the moment he decided that shutting off the person he cherished most was a foolproof plan in eradicating his own indelible emotions. Mistakes have been made and uncomfortable situations have been experienced, so when he grabs his basketball and a black Sharpie, he just hopes for the best.

 

 

“Mark, honey there’s something at the door for you!” his mother hollers from the bottom of the stairs and Mark cracks one eye open, barely adjusting to the blast of light that hits him in the face. In his sleep-addled state, he clearly remembers his Russian Roulette album arriving two days before, so what the hell was this?

 

 

“Are you sure it’s for me?” the soles of his feet slap against the floorboards and his dad tuts at the sound before sliding a pair of slippers across the floor.

 

 

“Thanks Dad- are you sure the package isn’t for you?” Mark slips on his glasses and scratches at the back of his left ear when his dad gives him a resolute shake of the head.

 

 

“I didn’t order anything, and your dad said his guitar strings came already so it must be for you,” his mother replies instead, taking a large gulp of her coffee. Mark cocks his head sideways, making his way to the door, and the question of why neither of his parents thought to bring the package inside the house escapes him when he spots an orange basketball sitting at the edge of his doorstep.

 

 

“What the hell,”

 

 

He makes tentative steps towards it, and the sight of an all too familiar ‘Jaehyun Jung,’ in faded black marker throws him into a whirlwind of nostalgia, stirring up the pain he thought had subsided.

 

Mark is all out of tears and emotions, having emptied them out for the last three days with the aid of his friends, sky-blue quilt, three bowls of watermelon cut and packed by his mother upon seeing his swollen eyes, and his favourite J.Cole album. But evidently, the pang still throbs in his chest when he reaches out for it, realising that it hadn’t rolled over to his feet this time and was placed there by none other than its owner.

 

Lo and behold, in the space between the Nike symbol and the grey strip, was a message written in black.

 

 

_‘Courts at five? Please?’_

Written in the legible but relatively messy penmanship of the elder, Mark runs a finger over it and the ink bleeds onto his thumb. Skimming his eyes along his street, he doesn’t spot a head of caramel brown anywhere.

 

He has no inclination to go when all it’ll ensue in is a painful recollection of the words uttered on the same grounds and Jaehyun’s golden eyes staring straight into his soul, repeating what Mark’s already heard and is sick of hearing.

 

 

“Mark, did you open it?” his mother’s voice floats down the hallway as she glides to the doorstep where he’s currently crouched, thumbs subconsciously drawing circles around the surface of the ball.

 

 

“Was Jaehyun hyung here this morning?” Mark is naive but he knows his mother like he knows that suspicious slurp of coffee a few minutes ago was not a habit.

 

 

The absence of reply is enough, and Mark swivels his body around to face her. She only crouches down with him, coffee mug in hand as her eyes wander wistfully, irises clouded with reminiscence.

 

 

“You know, your dad said the exact same thing to me twenty years ago, it was a breezy summer night outside the diner near our high school right after he finished a gig, and he confessed, sweat dripping down his forehead and his cheeks bright red from belting his lungs out- _oh Sweetcheeks! Gods, I can’t even explain how much I love you but you deserve someone better, not this scumbag with half a dollar to his name and only his heart to give!_ ” She mimics his dad’s baritone voice, furrowing her eyebrows to get the wrinkles that his dad sports when he’s being sentimental and Mark only lets a sliver of a smile slip past his lips.

 

 

“And I told him, what if that’s all I want?” Redirecting her gaze to Mark, her eyes grow soft as they land on him and only now, he sees the fine lines that appear besides her mouth and settle at the edges of her eyes.

 

 

“Now I know your dad and I were under different circumstances back in five hundred A.D when we fell in love,”

 

 

Mark lets himself snort quietly.

 

 

“But your dad was an insecure boy, despite his grand facade of lead guitar in that cheesy band in high school, all greasy black hair and wild charcoal-lined eyes, so he naturally believed that the girl of his dreams, his words not mine, deserved the entire world at her fingertips, which he couldn’t give,”

 

 

Her eyes wander back to him, gaze filled with unbridled love and adoration that Mark has known all his life, and he lets his head fall onto her shoulder.

 

 

“But it still hurt Mum,”

 

 

“I know baby, I know.” She runs her fingers through his hair, her other hand finding its way around his own larger ones, hardened fingertips running over his knuckles.

 

 

“It hurt me then too, but I knew he didn’t mean it because all this time, he only wanted the best for me, since we were seventeen till now. We were young and reckless then, but your dad was different- he didn’t let himself be happy, mistaking being happy as being selfish and wouldn’t take the things he wanted desperately, instead letting them go in fear that he wouldn’t treat them as well as they deserved.”

 

 

Mark finds parallels with the 80s and present day.

 

 

“Sound familiar Markie?” There’s a teasing lilt to her tone, blended with the devotion that always seems to linger in her voice and the twinge of heartache in his chest wanes when he feels for the ball in front of his feet.

 

 

“He’s only a boy so go easy on him, there might be more that he isn’t letting on because he doesn’t want you to worry, and more he wanted to say but couldn’t put into words, but I think you know that already,”

 

 

Mark recalls rich, golden irises masked by fog, curled lips holding less than a smile, and the look of pure remorse etching itself onto the face he’s memorised off by heart the exact moment he walked away from the wooden bench. At his mother’s words, he finds himself gradually losing grip of the onus that had been fostering in his chest. It slips easily, and it’s only now on this Saturday morning with the sun in his left peripheral vision, grey moon in his right, body nestled into his mother’s mellow embrace when it finally hits him that it had been more tiring holding on. He had been grasping at straws at this point to keep searching for reasons to be bitter, when forgiveness had been in his sights for longer than he wanted to acknowledge. When all he’s ever done is love the honey-eyed boy with his whole heart, it was terribly difficult trying to despise him.

 

There was enough reason to hate the elder, for his cowardice and insensitivity, but there was more reason to forgive, for the boy’s innocent fear of the unknown, coupled with his altruistic nature prevailed over anything else.

 

 

“Done mulling over your boy problem honey?”

 

 

His head gets unceremoniously pushed off his mother’s shoulder as she stands up and Mark almost tips over the patio at the sudden action. Staring up at his mother with a look of contempt, only for it morph into one of gratitude as she brushes away the dust on her knees with a knowing smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

 

 

“Thanks Mum,”

 

 

“Yeah yeah, make sure you recycle the cardboard box your _package_ came in!”

 

 

His lips quirk up into a smile as she rolls the basketball into his direction, voice growing in volume at the sight of his dad’s head in the hallway, curious at their prolonged ‘package opening’.

 

 

“What did you order Markie?” his dad peers out of the white front door, and Mark’s first instinct is to shove the large ball under his shirt.

 

 

“N-nothing! My album posters came is all!”

 

 

“For which album? Your EXO one or your Red Velvet one? Or perhaps that new group you’ve been into, En Sea Tea or whatever-”

 

 

“Haha very funny Dad, but it was my Red Velvet one if you must know,” he’s still hunched over his shirt, looking more suspicious than ever but his dad only smiles, glasses that were previously perched on his nose slowly slipping down as he peeks at Mark’s posture and shakes his head. His eyes curl into crescents and his hair sits flat on his head, a brown mop much like his own, and Mark wonders where his dad’s 1980s rocker soul disappeared off to.

 

 

“Okay Markie, if you say so.”

 

 

Mark thinks he successfully slipped out of that one as his dad saunters back into the kitchen, but when Mark pulls the ball out from under his pajama shirt, a voice floats straight down the hallway.

 

 

“There’s a bottle of chocolate milk in the fridge for you Markie!”

 

 

His mum’s unrestrained cackle is enough of a sign that his parents truly do love him.

 

 

He smuggles the basketball into his room with great caution, despite knowing his parents’ clear intentions, he settles it down beside him and reaches out for his phone charging beside his bed.

 

 

**_!dream team!_ **

**markkeuri**

_it’s happening at five today boys_

**nana**

_fighting markkeuri! it’ll be ok!_

_+i’m always down 4 cuddles if_

_you need them hyung~~_

**jen**

_imma beat jaehyun hyung up if_

_he doesn’t treat you right watch me_

**fullsun**

_the only threatening thing you possess_

_is that dumb smile of yours jen_

_p.s i’m sure jaehyun hyung_

_will get his head out of his ass and_

_realise what he’s been missing out_

_on -  good luck hyung you have_

_satan’s child on ur side!!!!!!!!!!!!_

**nana**

_bet that wasn’t what you were thinking_

_when jeno pinned you up against the wall_

_at the diner huehuehue_

**fullsun**

_shUT THE FUCIDHSKASHSKmjkaajskj_

**markkeuri**

_am i missing sumn here fellas????????_

_also thanks nana i love u man <33_

_and u too jeno i guess_

_and hyuck_

_thank u i l*** u or whateva_

**markkeuri**

_see y’all on the flipside haha!!_

**nana**

_he’s gonna be bawlin his eyes_

_out no matter what happens_

_boys are we ready_

**jen**

_aren’t we always ready?_

**fullsun**

_g up and come armed with your_

_bestest cuddles in approx._

_three hours time lads_

Mark ignores the last three messages.

 

 

Jaehyun feels like passing out.

 

The wind is harsher than usual today, and paired with his thin tee and ripped jeans, it calls for a runny nose and horribly chapped lips. As well as this, he’s trembling out of sheer nervousness, afraid of being stood up yet afraid of him showing up and then showing him absolutely no reprieve.

 

He thinks of rehearsing a speech so he doesn’t mess up as bad as he did the last time he sat on this damned bench but considering the circumstances and the outcome of _said last time_ , he figures he would do without it and let his feelings speak for themselves, whatever that may mean.

 

Banana milk in hand and heart on his sleeve, he sits on the bench and checks his phone as four thirty goes on four forty-five, four fifty, four fifty-five, four fifty-eight, four fifty-nine, five-

 

 

“H-hi Jaehyun,”

 

 

Jaehyun is pulled under by a wave of nostalgia.

 

 

“Hey, Mark,”

 

 

He is overwhelmed with immense joy and regret when he comes face to face with Mark, because the younger’s almond-coloured irises aren’t glazed with tears this time but there’s a grey filter cast over his visage. Jaehyun’s chest aches a little at the sight.

 

In his hand is the basketball he dropped off in a hurry this morning, exchanging a quick conversation with Mark’s parents, who only enveloped him in a warm hug before sending him off with knowing smiles. He is eternally grateful for their compassion and overall kindness- it’s no wonder how Mark is their son.

 

 

“I got your, um, message, I mean obviously it’s why I’m here- uh, here’s your, ball,”

 

 

Jaehyun sucks in a breath, trying his best to stop his face splitting with a smile.

 

 

“Keep it, it’s your turn to trip me over,”

 

 

He sees Mark bite his lip, rising cheeks giving away his smile.

 

 

“Sit down, I got you-”

 

 

“Milk?”

 

 

The moment Jaehyun offers a bottle of banana milk to him, Mark shoves a bottle of chocolate in his face with a hint of amusement in his voice and then there’s another moment where they meet eyes. Jaehyun blinks twice to make sure he isn’t dreaming up the glow in the younger’s gaze.

 

 

Jaehyun accepts the chocolate milk tentatively, Mark doing the same and straight out of a cheesy young adult novel, an electric spark runs through his fingertips when they slip past the brunet’s.

 

 

Before Jaehyun can relish in the semblance of normality that’s settled in between them, he clears his throat and gets straight to it, milk lying untouched on the table.

 

 

“I owe you an apology Mark, a proper one,”

 

 

And there they are again, the chorus of cicadas and the swaying of the trees.

 

 

“I don’t think there’s any reason that could ever justify what I said to you that day, any reason that could ever make up for the pain I put you through.”

 

 

His voice is airy and soft, wavering ever so slightly and he’s trying his best to make sure he doesn’t burst into tears to notice Mark’s hitched breath.

 

 

“I’m ashamed for being afraid, for being unaware of the consequences of my selfish actions and imposing my own insecurities onto you when it was never your fault.”

 

 

Although the younger is defiantly avoiding Jaehyun’s eyes, he knows he’s listening.

 

 

“Being courageous was never a trait of mine, but it appeared when I ran up to you after the tournament, when I asked you if you remembered that rainy day in the summer of 2013, the fear of you forgetting riddling my mind the moment I asked the question.”

 

 

The white shadow of the moon appears as the sky fades into lavender hues.

 

 

“Mark Lee, I’ve liked you since you fell on the concrete and gave me a smile full of gratitude that would remain in my memory for another three years. I’ve liked you since I saw you playing basketball like you were born for it, supporting your teammates like they were your family. I’ve liked you since you told me you remembered every little detail from that rainy day in the summer of 2013, since you bought me that bottle of chocolate milk, since you sent me my first kaomoji of many, since the first time you let me wrap my arm around you even though you’re not so big on skinship,”

 

 

The sun dips into the western half of the sky, lying in a field of white cloud and deep violets as Mark lifts his head and Jaehyun desperately wants to cradle him in his arms when he sees the younger’s hazel brown irises glisten in the light of the dim streetlamp.

 

 

“But Mark, I’ve loved you since you ran up to me after school, glasses falling off your nose and your hair tousled by the wind, telling me about your chemistry mark with this smile on your face and this light in your eyes that I realised I wanted to see every single day after. Now, the moment seems so insignificant but it made me recognise just how you intertwined you were in my life despite us only knowing each other for months. You unknowingly became a part of my soul and it didn’t register to me until you left for Canada and I missed you like no other,”

 

 

The moon rises as the sun sets when Jaehyun reaches for Mark’s hand, palm upturned and the younger lets his fingers slot in between the elder’s.

 

 

“I’m trying to be that person for you, the person that’ll give you the universe, give you everything you’ve ever wanted and needed. The person I was adamant I couldn’t become.”

 

 

“Because if there’s anything you deserve Mark, it’s someone who will try their fucking hardest for you, above everything else.”

 

 

Mark tightens his grip on Jaehyun’s hand, sending a current of warmth through Jaehyun’s entire body despite the freezing temperature.

 

 

“You don’t have to say anything back, I just needed to apologise and-”

 

 

“I love you Jung Jaehyun,”

 

 

It feels like being submerged in water. He feels weightless and uninhibited. Maybe his eyes are stinging too, but hearing those three words come from the person he loves most, before anything else, Jaehyun feels like he’s received everything he has ever wanted.

 

 

“Hyung?”

 

 

“Can you say it again?”

 

 

“ _Hyung!_ ”

 

 

“I love you Mark Lee, more than basketball, more than Daniel Caesar, more than vine compilations, and more than banana milk,”

 

 

Jaehyun omits the ‘more than words can explain and time can tell’ because Mark immediately tips his head back and laughs, his nose scrunched and eyes squeezed shut, cheekbones gleaming like strips of starlight.

 

Now, this is what Jaehyun wants for the rest of his life.

 

 

2018

 

“Hey Jaehyun, can you teach your boyfriend how to unwrap a sandwich?”

 

 

Mark grimaces as Taeil continues to goad him and Jaehyun only laughs on the side, wiping away his sweat and fanning himself with his hands while his soaked jersey clings to him like the cling film on this _goddamn sandwich_ -

 

 

“Pass it to me Markie, we’re gonna be here all day,”

 

 

Mark reluctantly passes his lunch to his boyfriend, choosing to ignore the completely unsubtle snort that comes from Jaehyun when he unwraps it in an embarrassingly quick amount of time, dangling the bread in front of him like some high school bully to the kid who had their lunch money stolen. There’s an underlying analogy there but Mark refuses to acknowledge it.

 

 

“You’ve just got- like big hands,” he snatches the sandwich out of the elder’s hand, murmuring the last part of his sentence and wolfs it down so he has a good reason not to reply to whatever unwanted comment Jaehyun has to make about his inept human abilities.

 

 

“Stop being so cute Mark Lee, my old heart can’t take it,” Jaehyun scoops him up in a hug, clearly not giving a care about his gross uniform coming in contact with Mark’s lunch and more focussed on making Mark mirror the shade of a beetroot.

 

 

“Look at these whippersnappers, being in love right in front of my salad,” Johnny hollers with a mouthful of romaine lettuce in his mouth and the rest of them chorus in agreement, except for Jaemin who’s in his permanent state of cooing at everyone who so much as breathes.

 

 

Mark’s head is about to implode, as if it wasn’t big enough already and Jaehyun is _clearly_ enjoying the attention if that dumb smirk slowly etching itself on his handsome face is any sign.

 

 

“I hate you all,”

 

 

“But you hate me least right?” a whisper tickles the inside of his ear and he can’t stop his mouth from betraying him and curling into a smile.

 

 

“Aw, I wish you were right,”

 

 

They’re whispering between each other but Donghyuck goes the extra mile without even bothering to listen to what they’re actually saying and pretends to throw up in his mouth.

 

 

“They’ve literally been like this for two years ‘Hyuck, let them live,” Jeno says, fingers brushing through the knots of the younger’s hair and Doyoung, being his pseudo-father nods his head rapidly as he slings an arm around an unassuming Taeyong, who chokes on his rice when Doyoung grabs at his hand absentmindedly.

 

 

“It’s still really gay,”

 

 

“And you’re not?!” Renjun asks incredulously, looking astounded (sarcastically or genuinely, Mark cannot tell) with his eyes trailing to Donghyuck’s chair, or rather his animated seat called Lee Jeno and Sicheng is having the time of his life, tears of laughter streaking down his face and into Yuta’s shirt, to the elder’s absolute joy. Mark attributes it to the Japanese male’s adoration for anything the younger does, from breathing to soaking his clothing.

 

 

“Guys please, some people are trying to eat in some semblance of peace,” Ten announces, stabbing at his own limp salad with unbridled ferocity and Kun only rubs the Thai male’s back with a broken look in his eyes. It seems like only Ten is blind to the unwavering affection the elder offers him, but that’s none of Mark’s business.

 

 

“You guys are so stupid,” Jungwoo picks at his nails before scrambling for his phone the moment it lights up with a text from a certain ‘Yukhei Wong’ and Renjun makes an anguished noise that Donghyuck firmly agrees with, if his own disgusted noise is anything to go by.

 

 

“You’re the one that literally blocked Xuxi ge’s Twitter so he wouldn’t see you crying about his biceps on his timeline,”

 

 

The whole gang expresses their agreement through a series of barking laughs and Sicheng is _losing it_ , looking at the younger with a newfound admiration.

 

 

“Don’t you love them?”

 

 

“Hmm, not as much as I love you,”

 

 

“You’re really out for my heart aren’t you Mark Lee?”

 

 

“I’m as enamoured with you as I was the moment you patched up my knee with your wet ebony locks in your eyes and Dettol wipes in your deft fingers-”

 

 

“I wasn’t embarrassed about that rainy day in the summer of 2013 for the last five years, but I am now,”

 

 

Mark giggles into the elder’s chest, sandwich neglected as it sits on the table that they’ve all congregated on after an informal but heated basketball match.

 

Jaehyun squeezes his hands, kissing the top of Mark’s head as he does so and Mark looks up to see his boyfriend staring right back at him. It feels like drowning in a pool of liquid gold.

 

 

“Gay,” Donghyuck supplies and Renjun slaps him across the head with a napkin.

 

 

2019

 

“Hyung!”

 

 

“Mark?! Hi baby- oh my God be careful of the puddle-”

 

 

Mark loses his footing, right foot sliding in front as water splashes up into his face and he waits for his body to hit the concrete but it never happens. Instead, he’s face to face with a mop of caramel coloured hair and honey irises. But the golden eyes flicker with something Mark has come to associate with ‘something stupid is about to leave his mouth’-

 

 

“Guess you always seem to fall for me, huh,”

 

 

“For the love of God, hyung _please_ -”

 

 

2020

 

“Guess who killed it at the university basketball comp yesterday?”

 

 

“Jae hyung, I was there,”

 

 

“Well then, guess who killed it!”

 

 

“Do you wanna guess who didn’t realise they fell in love with a nuthead until now? Hint, it’s me!”

 

 

“You’re just mad that your team lost, boo hoo!”

 

 

“That tiny boy on your team totally fouled!”

 

 

“You and Yangyang are basically the same height, you’re just being petty,”

 

 

“What about that guy with the piercing eyes-”

 

 

“Hendery was benchwarming.”

 

 

“Now you can’t tell me the guy with the eyebrows was innocent-”

 

 

“Xiaojun did nothing but breathe during the entire game, you’re losing this Markie,”

 

 

“S-Shut up!”

 

 

2023

 

“Hey Chenle, did you know they ran out of banana milk at the convenience store?”

 

 

“You do know that’s Mark hyung’s favourite flavour, right?”

 

 

“So?”

 

 

“Well if you got it through your _thick head_ , it’s August 2 and Jaehyun hyung has no cash in his wallet,”

 

 

“How do you know Jaehyun hyung doesn’t have any money- wait who are you calling thick head here!”

 

 

“Hey Chenle, do I look okay?”

 

 

“Shut up Jisung- Hyung you look great! Mark hyung is gonna think you’re smoking hot!”

 

 

“But you didn’t even look at my outfit- thank you anyway Lele!”

 

 

“ _Oh_ , I get it now,”

 

 

“Jesus you’re stupid aren’t you,”

 

 

“But you _loooove_ me!”

 

 

“Park Jisung, literally lie to anyone else but me,”

 

 

2026

 

“Renjun honey, do you know where Markie hyung’s tie is?”

 

 

“Jaem’, you’re holding it,”

 

 

“Gosh, you’re so smart Injunnie,”

 

 

“Lee Jeno!”

 

 

“Yes ‘Hyuckie?”

 

 

“I can hear Doyoung and Taeyong hyung freaking out, go help Jaehyun hyung out,”

 

 

“On it,”

 

 

“On their wedding day, you’d think both parties would be less, uh, how do I put it-”

 

 

“Less of a mess? Yukhei love, nothing is ever _not a mess_ with these men,”

 

 

“Then how are you so put together?”

 

 

“Because I’ve got you to keep me in one piece,”

 

 

“God, is anything ever not _homosexual_ in this house?”

 

 

“Ten, you are homosexual,”

 

 

“Sometimes, I wish you were more sensitive Kun!”

 

 

“Ten, we’re _married_.”

 

 

His knee is jogging up and down involuntarily, heart pounding at a million kilometres per hour as the clock ticks over eleven ‘o’ clock.

 

A bottle of banana milk sits on the table untouched, and a shiny new iPhone charges beside him, tiny basketball keychain hanging off the case. A string of pictures lines the wall behind him, caption reading ‘JaeMark take on the world!’ with two hearts at the end. A lifetime of memories surrounds him and all he can remember is petrichor, golden irises, and deep dimples.

 

 

“Mark, are you ready?”

 

 

A head of chestnut brown pops out of the door and Mark screams in shock.

 

 

“Maybe not,” Taeil murmurs under his breath as he marches into the room, hands flying to fix Mark’s haphazardly knotted tie, courtesy of a skittish Na Jaemin.

 

 

“Hyung, I’m nervous,”

 

 

Taeil halts, and stares at the younger through the mirror.

 

 

“Why for?”

 

 

“I don’t know.”

 

 

The elder crouches to get to eye level with Mark, letting go of the tie and settling his palms on the younger’s shoulders.

 

 

“It’s going to be okay, alright Markie? You’re going to sweep him away and he’s definitely going to cry when he sees you.”

 

 

“But today is-”

 

 

“When Johnny and I got married, I peed myself a little two minutes before I was supposed to walk the aisle.”

 

 

“So _that_ was the stain on your pants?!”

 

 

“Not the point Mark. I’m saying, it’s okay to be nervous, but it’s not okay if it’s because you’re scared. The moment Jaehyun sees you, he’s going to remember why he popped the question a year ago and why he wants to spend the rest of his life with you,”

 

 

Mark starts to sniffle and Taeil brings his thumbs to pat away the tears that trail from the inner corners of the younger’s eyes.

 

 

“No crying, Donghyuck is going to have your ass served on a platter if your eyeliner smudges.”

 

 

Mark laughs, sniffing as he blinks away any other stray tears.

 

 

“Now, are you ready?”

 

 

“Never been readier in my life.”  

**Author's Note:**

> i’m not usually a jaemark shipper and i’ve only really perceived them as a brotp but that idol room episode (along with every other cute moment they've had with each other - nct life in paju i'm looking at you) really got my head whirring and voila, 17.8k words later here we are
> 
> this is super duper experimental + my first nct fic even tho i’ve stanned the boys for a long time, so i hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> and as always,,,, favourite line?
> 
> love, oaf  
> p.s send me ur thoughts on [twt](https://twitter.com/98mbins) :))


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